


The Art of Madness

by mishapshappen



Series: So I See [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Double Dating, Invisibility, M/M, POV Third Person, Pre-Relationship, Unicorns, Virginity, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1366504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishapshappen/pseuds/mishapshappen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wereunicorns can only be seen by virgins. Derek is a wereunicorn. Stiles can see him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Derek is 29, Stiles 24.

Derek is at his parents' in Beacon Hills for the summer. He's only been there for two days and already Derek is bored out of his mind.

The thing about being a wereunicorn that Derek likes—absolutely loves—is that he mostly doesn't have to deal with people besides other wereunicorns such as himself for the simple reason that they can't see him. Well, they can't see his kind unless they're virgins which leaves mostly children and pre-teens nowadays. It also means that he doesn't have to deal with blush it hunters or other supernatural creatures because they just can't see their shifted forms (for the mated pairs and the unmated individuals alike) and their human forms (for the unmated people only such as Derek).

But for all the advantages it has, it does have its drawbacks though. The most glaringly obvious being that wereunicorns are special snowflakes who only have sex with their mates which leaves Derek—definitely not by choice—with his best friend porn and his trusted right hand. Him, a fucking twenty-nine year old virgin. Which, admittedly is not at all uncommon for his kind (most find their mates in their thirties) so Derek is definitely not the oldest virgin around.

There's really not much to do in this town, and his parents are out being weirdly affectionate mated people, as are his sisters, which leaves Derek alone in the huge Hale family house (yes, they are well off—as are every other rare wereunicorn out there—it's pretty much a given when one of your powers is to be able to materialize gold and diamonds out of thin air) and Derek is _bored_.

So, naturally, Derek decides to head out to the Sheriff's station—most exciting place in town and considering the crime rate around here, that's not saying much unless the werewolves in town are acting up again, those out-of-control freaks—because he's got nothing better to do.

Speaking of drawbacks—not being able to drive _anywhere_ is seriously annoying as fuck, but hey, Derek almost as fast as a car on his feet so he can make do, it's just that complaining and scowling just needs to be done sometimes.

Derek arrives at the station around 2 pm and settles on a free bench in the main room, where he has a vantage point of the whole room and sprawls, crossing his legs at the ankles and folding his arms behind his head, observing.

\-----

Stiles has been interning at beacon Hills' police station for about two weeks—granted interning under his father's rule was not the most brilliant idea he's ever had but at least he knows what to expect—when the relative monotony is disrupted by freakishly hot, gorgeous, god-like guy hanging out all chill at the station.

The first time Stiles sees him, he _stares_ for what feels like forever. The guy's laying down on the bench before his dad's office in the main room and has his eyes closed—Thank God, because he doesn't need this Adonis to think of him as 'the creepy guy'—humming under his breath. Stiles briefly wonders what his eyes look like before realizing that this guy's not handcuffed, not being processed, just seems to be hanging out like Stiles used to do when he was a bratty teenager looking for trouble.

So, Stiles stops staring before he gets caught and goes about his mind-numbing archiving business.

It's not until the evening when he's eating an healthy dinner with his dad that he asks about it.

"Who's that guy hanging out at the station anyway?" He asks, his mouth full.

His dad frowns. "What guy?"

"The one practically sleeping outside your office," Stiles says like it should go without saying, and really it should. He almost adds "the hot one" before he magically manages to make his brain-to-mouth filter function properly. His dad might be okay with him being bisexual but he doesn't need to know _that_.

Sheriff Stilinski looks at his son like he lost his ever-loving mind. He swallows the bite of omelet in his mouth before repeating, " _What guy_?"

Stiles shrugs and just chops it up to his dad being too busy to notice until the next day when he notices that no one seems to be freaking _aware_ of that guy. Even when he steals an apple right beside Jones' desk and starts munching on it noisily.

Stiles is really starting to think that everyone at the station is playing a practical joke on him—probably some stupid sort of initiation or something—so he stalks over to the guy purposefully, determined to get to the bottom of this.

"How much are they paying you?" Stiles whispers furiously, startling the guy out of his reverie. God, his eyes are even more gorgeous than the rest of him and that's saying something.

The guy looks around and behind him, like maybe Stiles isn't talking to him before staring back at Stiles in wonder before schooling his features into an impassive scowl.

"Who are you taking to?" His dad asks out of nowhere and Stiles jumps slightly.

He turns to his dad, frowning. "Don't tell me you're in on this, too! I thought you said you thought hazing was immature and possibly dangerous," Stiles mumbles, annoyed.

"I did and I do," his dad replies. "But that doesn't answer my question."

Stiles looks back at the hot guy and sees him smirking slightly, enjoying the show apparently. But when he turns back, he can see his dad looking blankly at the spot Stiles just stared at and you just can't fake that look, not to mention that when he turns to Stiles, his dad looks so freaking scared that Stiles can't help but realize that he might be very well be having a hallucination like his mom had before she was diagnosed. So, he lies. 

"I was just talking to myself," he laughs nervously. "Rehearsing some bad news I have to tall Scott later..."

His dad still looks concerned but not scared shitless like he did a minute ago. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he dismisses. "It's just some stupid guy stuff."

"If you say so." And then his dad is back in his office and Stiles is left with the realization that he's a freaking twenty-four year old _with an imaginary friend_.

No wonder he's still a virgin.

\-----

Derek needs to rectify something: Beacon Hills? So not boring. All thanks to a spastic twenty-something guy interning at the station. A twenty-something guy who can see him. The last time someone older than seventeen years old was able to see him was... shit, Derek can't even remember. After being slightly confused and _amazed_ by this fact, Derek considers the kid a little more closely.

Needless to say that despite how slightly creepy it is, Derek hung out around the kid all day that first time, just to catch his name— _something_. Turns out his name is Stiles Stilinski—and don't even get Derek started on that name—and he's the Sheriff's son. After that, it's really not that hard to find out that he's twenty-four, that his mother died when he was young, and that his best friend is some guy named Scott.

It doesn't take long for Derek to realize that Stiles thinks he's a hallucination or some kind of imaginary friend as he's muttered a few times, and at that point, no one can really blame Derek for playing it up, because it's actually more interesting than getting into the whole wereunicorn thing of it all. 

Derek isn't bored anymore.

\-----

Stiles wakes up slowly as he's wont to do on the weekends. He looks over at his alarm clock and frowns when he sees it's only 9 am—he should be sleeping in for another couple of hours at least. He starts when he hears a chuckle coming from the other side of the room and groans, finally knowing what woke him up.

"What are you doing here?" He asks rudely and then rectifies. "What are you doing here at ass o'clock?"

"Ass o'clock?" Derek—as Stiles has learned is his name last week—chuckles. He raises an eyebrow at the alarm clock and fuck, but Stiles wants to know how to do that with his own eyebrows but he's never managed it. Another reason to dislike the guy. "It's hardly that early."

"I don't care," Stiles whines, "just let me sleep, please."

"By all means, don't mind me," Derek replies cheerfully and settles in the chair in the corner of Stiles' room and just _watches_ him.

"Fuck," Stiles swears when he realizes that he is never going to be able to sleep like that. "Fine, fine, I'm up." He pushes the covers off him and stands there in his boxers. Not much need in being modest with your very own hallucination, after all. "Just...Leave me 30 minutes?" He almost pleads, motioning for the bathroom.

Derek nods, all important.

Stiles wants to _murder_ him. Right after he's had breakfast though because he's starving.

So Stiles has half an hour of peace getting ready before he heads down to breakfast. He greets his dad who raises his eyebrows inquisitively at seeing Stiles up before 11 or noon. Stiles just shrugs and starts making pancakes.

His dad gets seated at the table and Stiles comes over with the pancakes, putting them on the table, glaring at Derek as he passes him reclined against the wall next to Stiles' chair.

They eat in silence until Derek starts stealing pieces of pancakes off Stiles' plate and Stiles grunts irritably.

"Get your own," he grumbles at him, annoyed, mouth half full.

"Um?" His dad looks up from his plate, frowning slightly.

"I mean, you should get some more, dad," he says, pushing the plate of pancakes towards his dad. "There's plenty."

His dad looks at him strangely and Stiles can hear Derek cracking up behind him.

\-----

It's now been five weeks since Derek met one Stiles Stilinski and despite the fact that he doesn't like to admit it, Derek likes the kid. He's smart, funny, spastic, snarky, caring and loyal to a fault. And as much as he'd like to turn back time and to have told Stiles the truth from the beginning, that isn't in the realm of possibilities—even for a wereunicorn like him. So Derek just knows that getting Stiles to forgive him is going to be a pain but it's time he told him the truth. Especially, since Derek got a clue and realized Stiles is his mate.

Derek wants to groan just thinking about the conversation that's about to take place.

It really wouldn't surprise him if Stiles told him to go to hell, especially now that he finally knows what happened to Stiles' mom before she died—ever since yesterday when Stiles went the next town over and explained to a doctor his mom's diagnosis and how he thought he was getting it too. Derek had stood helpless, scowling a little more with every word Stiles uttered, feeling like a complete, first-class asshole for the way he'd toyed with Stiles' emotions for fucking _entertainment_.

He wouldn't blame Stiles if he never talked to Derek again.

His family was going to have a field day with his total idiocy and incompetency with what should have essentially been the courtship of his mate if he'd been a little less clueless a little earlier. Fuck.

Stiles is typing away at his computer when Derek opens his room's window and climbs through, landing soundlessly in the young man's room. 

"You're not crazy," Derek blurts out with all his legendary tact and finesse.

Stiles freezes on his desk chair and doesn't say a word.

"You're not crazy," Derek repeats himself, hoping to get through to Stiles.

Stiles turns his chair around, looking in Derek's direction, and snorts bitterly. "Says my hallucination. Yeah, you're right, that's very reassuring."

Derek hates himself for everything he's done to Stiles this past month. Loathes himself even more because he loved every single second he spent with Stiles.

"But that's just it," Derek pauses, swallowing noisily. "I'm not a hallucination."

"Oh, really?" Stiles humors him. "What are you, then?"

Derek takes a few tentative steps towards his mate, dreading the next words he's about to utter. "I'm a wereunicorn."

Stiles stares for a few seconds and then, he just _laughs_. "God, I'm crazy _and_ weird."

"You're not crazy," Derek says forcefully. "You're just one of the rare people able to see me."

"Right, and in more than a month, how come I haven't seen even one person who could see you? Your theory sounds like a bogus attempt of my mind's to protect me from the painful knowledge of my impending full-on madness," Stiles rambles.

"Fine, you don't believe me, let's go to my house right now and you can see for yourself that I indeed exist."

"Because you bring me to someone's house? I don't think so."

"No," Derek sighs. "Because I bring you to my house, to see my parents and sisters who are real people, by the way."

"And you're not?" Stiles snarks back, smirking evilly at Derek—he landed right into that one.

"I _am_ but everyone _can see them_ unlike me," Derek explains, scowl in place. He's never hated being invisible to most people as much as he does now.

Stiles looks at his watch, sees it's 8 pm—still a decent enough hour to go to someone's house to prove to yourself wether you're crazy or not—and gets up, grabbing the keys to his old jeep and a hoodie from his messy closet.

Derek follows him out and finally _breathes_ for the first time tonight.

Not that the worst of it is even started yet.

\-----

Stiles follows Derek's instructions as he tells him to turn this and that way until he stops his jeep in front of the huge Hale house.

"You're shitting me! You're telling me the Hales are your family and wereunicorns at that?" Stiles exclaims, flailing all over the place.

Derek rolls his eyes. By now, his whole family knows they're just outside and are probably vibrating out of their skins as Derek and Stiles argue about this.

"They are," Derek says with finality. "Now, come on." And he opens the passenger door and steps out. Derek is trying to look real and arriving at the same time as Stiles (or even before him) wouldn't really help his attempt at convincing Stiles of his non-hallucination status.

Stiles follows behind him, trailing his feet like a petulant child. Derek smiles fondly.

Derek arrives before the big front door and knocks despite the lack of necessity of the action. It's all for Stiles' benefit—no need to freak him out even more in one night.

Derek's so-called parents open the door and Stiles stands frozen, dumbfounded when they bot greet Derek warmly and, and _shit_ but Derek appears to be real. Because Stiles knows he's not hallucinating the Hales—everyone in town knows who they are. They're _real_. 

Derek is _real_. He wasn't lying.

Holy fuck.

\-----

"So you're real," Stiles states, still staring in awe at Derek.

"I am," Derek replies simply.

"And I can see you but almost no one else can."

Derek winces almost imperceptibly. "You can."

"Why is that?" Stiles asks, honestly curious.

"Do you want to see my shifted form?" Derek asks suddenly, trying to divert Stiles' attention.

Fortunately, Stiles is easily distracted. "You mean...?"

"Yes."

Stiles pretends to think for a few seconds and then shrugs nonchalantly, but Derek isn't fooled since Stiles is practically vibrating in excitement. 

So Derek goes out back and Stiles walks behind him, almost skipping.

Derek looks back at Stiles, somewhat nervous. He's never had to show anyone who didn't have their own unicorn form and he's suddenly anxious about it, so he takes a deep breath and just _shifts_ , tearing his clothes to pieces in the process.

When Derek opens his still multi-colored eyes, it's to stare directly into Stiles' wide eyes. Stiles takes a tentative step like he expects Derek to bolt at any second—which is just freaking hilarious to Derek who'd been expecting that exact same reaction from Stiles. Stiles inches closer slowly, raising his hand slowly, letting it hover a little distance away from Derek snout, so Derek crosses the gap and pushes his muzzle slowly up to meet Stiles' outreached hand.

Stiles startles a little but then he's patting Derek softly on the head and smiling brightly.

Derek neighs loudly to attract his parents' attention and a few seconds later, his mom is back with a change of clothes for him that she puts down behind a nearby tree. He trots quietly over to said tree and shifts behind it, back in naked human form, and puts on a pair of jeans commando, a v-neck shirt and his leather jacket before stepping out from behind the cover of the tree.

Stiles is still standing in the same place, running the long fingers of his left hand onto his right palm, as if memorizing what it was like to touch Derek like that.

"Not freaked out yet?" Derek asks as he approaches his mate. 

"Nah," Stiles chuckles. "This is a hundred times better than losing my mind," he says relieved. "Thanks for that, by the way."

Derek winces. "I know." Derek gulps. "I'm _so_ sorry about that," he tells his mate truthfully. "I was a complete and utter asshole," he says, his recent self-loathing dripping from his voice. "Fuck, if I'd known..."

"I know," Stiles says softly. "It wasn't done maliciously and to be honest, I might have done even worse if I'd been in your shoes, so."

Derek opens and shuts his mouth several times, soundlessly, looking like a fish out of water. "You're forgiving me?" He asks, incredulous. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," Stiles shrugs like it's no big deal and Derek is again struck with how truly amazing his mate is. "So... Now about that wereunicorn business, tell me _everything_."

\-----

"So, let me get this straight," Stiles says. "To see your kind—"

"Unmated," Derek supplies, interrupting Stiles.

"—unmated—you have to be a...a..."

"Virgin."

"Yes, a virgin?" Stiles squeaks.

"That's right," Derek says matter-of-factly.

"So you know I'm—" Stiles started only to get interrupted again by Derek before he could stutter.

"A virgin? I figured that pretty quick, yes," Derek says as gently as he can, not wanting to embarrass Stiles.

Stiles groans, hiding his face in his hands. Figures that the hottest guy Stiles has ever met gets to know about just how much game Stiles has.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Derek says because that's true. "You know, you're a pretty young virgin among my kind."

"Really?" Stiles peaks from under his fingers to look at Derek's honest face.

"Yeah," Derek confirms. "We don't have sex until we meet our mate, so."

"But you haven't met your mate yet," Stiles states.

Derek frowns, wondering if he should tell Stiles the truth but thinks better of it. He doesn't want Stiles to feel obligated to be with him. But Derek doesn't want to lie either so he simply tells the God honest truth. "I'm unmated, yes," he replies.

"So you—you're a virgin too?" Stiles can feel his voice rising slightly.

Derek scowls at Stiles' tone of voice. "Don't sound so surprised. I'm not that old."

"You're certainly not the 40-year-old virgin, but you have to excuse me, I've always felt like a freak being the only virgin around at College, and now to meet another one, that's kind of awesome!" Stiles babbles. "How old are you anyway?"

"Twenty-nine."

"Um," Stiles hums. "That's pretty much what I thought." Stiles thinks for a few seconds before asking, "So what now?"

"Now, I stop annoying the living shit out of you and we can try to be friends?" Derek asks almost too hopefully to be manly.

Stiles punches his shoulder lightly in a friendly gesture. "Idiot. We're already friends."

\-----

Derek stops sneaking into Stiles' room in the early morning and they start hanging out at Derek's house, where they can have an actual conversation without people looking at Stiles like a madman.

They're laying in the freshly cut grass out back of the huge property, listening to Stiles' iPod, one earbud in one of their ears, talking all the while.

That's when Stiles brings up the subject of the double date Allison has organized for her, Scott, some friend of Allison she met at College, and Stiles.

"What?" Derek asks, his smile dropping from his face. He's a little freaked out to realize that with Stiles he does more smiling than scowling. Things are weird.

"Allison will kill me if I don't show up," Stiles continues like nothing's wrong. "And Scott won't get any if Allison is pissed, and then Scott will whine to me about his lack of a sex life which is just too ironically pathetic even for me."

"So, you're going," Derek states.

"Yep," Stiles nods.

"Tonight?" Derek checks.

"Yeah," Stiles looks a little sheepish. "I know we planned on watching a movie tonight and I feel like shit canceling at the last minute but I'd seriously completely forgotten." Stiles turns his head towards Derek, a Mumford & Sons song playing in his ear, and winces slightly. "Rain check?"

Derek forces a strained smile. "Yeah, sure."

\-----

Stiles is seating across from Scott and Allison being their sickeningly sweet selves, which leaves him to talk with Allison's friend, Mandy, expect Stiles finds for the first time in his life that he doesn't really have anything to say. His brain keeps wandering over to the Hale property where he should be enjoying The Avengers with Derek right now.

"Ow," Stiles cries out loudly, having been kicked in the shin by—well, Allison or Scott, he doesn't really know which one to blame for the bruise already forming. Stiles admits he's not been great company and he would really be surprised if Mandy asked to see him again.

Allison stops being all cutesy with Scott in order to include her friend into the conversation, and Stiles finds himself drifting away once more until he's brought out of his stupor by his cell vibrating in his pocket.

He takes his phone out and smiles hugely when he sees he has a text from Derek.

 **How is it going?** — D.

Stiles starts typing furiously at his phone, smiling the whole time.

 **Horribly. I'm the worst date ever in the history of bad dates from hell.** — S.

Stiles thinks of something else and texts Derek before he can answer him.

 **And you've ruined me, now I'm even writing proper English in my texts, you monster.** — S.

Derek answers right away.

 **I'm sure it's not going that bad. And you've ruined me too, I almost typed 'lol'... WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?** — D.

Stiles laughs out loud at that and tries to stifle it when he gets kicked again but the laughter wins out.

The girls excuse themselves and head to the diner's girls' bathroom.

Scott hit him again as soon as they're alone in the booth. That clears up the issue as to who his abuser was. "Who do you keep texting?" Scott's almost got a scowl on his face and it reminds Stiles of Derek and he smiles fondly.

"A friend," Stiles supplies unhelpfully. "You don't know him," he adds when Scott raises his eyebrows.

"I know all your friends," Scott sounds petulant.

"Looks like you don't," Stiles sing-songs triumphantly.

Scott grunts. "Well, cut it out! You're gonna cost me at least a couple of weeks of sex with how poorly you're treating that girl!"

"I'm sorry, I just... I'm not interested," Stiles confesses.

"Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?" Scott asks dumbfounded.

Before Stiles can answer, the girls come back from their bathroom break and Stiles pretends to have a good time as they eat their cheeseburgers.

\-----

Derek finds Stiles eating a banana split when he arrives at the diner. He just couldn't keep texting Stiles while imaging him on a date with someone else, damn it. So he came here.

Yes, Derek is completely aware how much of a creeper that makes him.

Stiles almost chokes on a piece of banana when he spots Derek making his way to their booth.

"Stiles, are you okay?" Scott—at least Derek assumes it's Scott, the infamous best friend—asks, concerned. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Not a ghost, thank you," Derek says drily and he smiles a million-watt smile when he hears Stiles snorting in amusement.

Stiles tries to cover it up by coughing but no one is really fooled, and fuck, but Stiles was right, his date looks like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

"I think I've had enough," Stiles announces, pushing his banana split away.

Derek tries to resist but he really can't. "She looks like she's had enough, too." Derek chuckles, nodding his head toward Stiles' unfortunate—well, extremely fortunate in fact but she doesn't look like it—date who looks like she wants nothing more than to escape as soon as possible.

Stiles tries to school his features and not laugh out loud, but it only serves to make him look demented. Derek grins widely.

The guys go to the counter to pay the check and Derek can hear Allison's friend frantically making up an excuse to get out of here and not have to suffer through more Stiles when they get to the movies. What an idiot, Derek can't help thinking, she doesn't know what she's missing' Stiles in front of a movie is a transcendent experience in and of itself.

Heh, Derek won't mind seating in her seat next to Stiles.

\-----

Stiles is thoroughly given a talking to by Allison who still can't quite believe just how _uninterested_ in her cute friend Stiles had been. The three of them decide to head out to the movies anyways, and though they don't know it, for once, Stiles is so fucking glad not to be the third wheel, Derek an unavoidable presence at his side.

They hold hands the whole movie.


End file.
